


Ballroom of the Mind

by annarealdeal



Category: Lana Del Rey (Musician)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Flowers, Mental Health Issues, Middle Ages, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 21:08:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18301970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annarealdeal/pseuds/annarealdeal
Summary: Her - Absinthe. Middle ages. Colours. Mental illnesses and flowers.





	Ballroom of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> “I don't belong in the world - that's what it is. Something separates me from other people. Everywhere I turn, there's something blocking my escape” - Mary Henry, “Carnival of the Souls”

She is alone. She walks through the forest. Why? Cannot tell. After her last panic attack her mind was broken. Again.

***

The story is about a girl, living in a petite village. Her father died many years ago, when men from village ganged togheter and went to the battle, so she doesn't even know where his body lies. But she tries to do her best, she helps her mother with healing people from their hamlet.

“Stop gazing into nowhere and take off his bandage, Absinthe.”, said the mother. The young damsel stood next to her, staring through the window. Her calm amber eyes scrutinized the border of the forest. Her filigree but full rosy lips were delicately opened. Her long auburn hair, intertwined into a plait striated with cornflowers and poppies, fell on her back. She was slim and not very tall. Her forehead was faintly puckered and her fists were clamped. What is she thinking about? Did something distress her?

Out of the blue she turned around and came to the wooden slab, where the patient was sitting. Slowly and softly, she took a patch off his arm. Her mother came closer, looked and started thinking.

“Bloodletting succeeded. For the next treatment you should come at the end of the month.”, she said, leading him to the door. Then she went out for a while, and the young girl stayed alone. In that moment Absinthe felt an indescribable headache. She caught her head and fell to the floor.

***

  


Silence. Calmness. She sits in the middle of a golden field. Around resounds nature, the golden painting with blue and red flowers almost everywhere. And there she is - the girl in a brown woolen dress blown by the wind.

Why is calmness so important to her? Does she always come here to pray for a piece of asylum?

***

  


Sabrina went to sleep in her chamber. Then her daughter left the house and went for a night walk. Her eyes were looking into the forest with a dead empty sight. She didn't know where she was going, but she always has acted like this. The voices. They are telling her where to go. And she became used to it. Wandering, she came to the swing that she had discovered some time ago. She sat and started to swing.

„Why am I like this? Why is this happening to me?”, she whispered quiet to the trees. The glade in the forest was enlightened only by the silver moon. One could feel the darkness in the air. Desolation environed her body. She could feel it. She always felt too much. She understood too much.

„I asked why! Why can't you leave me alone?! What do you want from me?!”, yelled the fifteen-years-old girl. Who was the receiver of her questions? In the village it was believed that she is possessed. This was not true, although she sees more than anyone. She sees gruesome creatures, which come to her when she is alone. They are coming only in the dark, hiding in the shadow.

From yelling she went to wailing. Suffering encompassed her, but she didn't know where it came from. This was the last thing she remembered from that night.

***

Among people she feels horrible. They are watching her, they follow her every move. This morning she had to go to the market. She left her house, her safe place.

Golden sun illuminated her auburn long plait. Her leather booties were stepping on the sandy path. She was looking ahead with a smile. When she arrived, she felt the smell of a fresh bread and heard the buzz of a crowd. Children ran barefoot splashing water into each other, women washed clothes in tubs, men chortled sipping beer. She could feel the harmony and happiness.

A little boy ran next to Absinthe splashing water onto her dress, but she just laughed. Behind the boy rushed a little girl with a blue ribbon in her fair blonde hair.

Everything seemed to be good. But then her hands started to shake. Why? Her body became hot, everything in her head dissapeared. What is going on? Does anybody see this? Thousands thoughts per second. Is she safe? Does she feel pain? Where? Her head. She hit her head with her hand. And again. What is happening? Can she escape from there? She fell to the ground, hitting her head with the hand all the time, but it didn't stop hurting. Does anybody see it now? Around, there are dozens of people. They must see it. What do they think about her? Doesn't matter. Nothing matters now, just this pain. And the cheep...

Blue ribbon on the ground.

Bread.

Wet dress.

Cold.

Frightness.

Darkness.

Headache.

Cheep.

***

It always ends like this. Everything would be good, if she only stayed at home. She could be hiding there all the time. Since her childhood she has been hearing that she is a danger for her village. Some sages in the hamlet say she is cursed.

„Don't let this dark stand between us, Absinthe.” Who said that? A human? Her father? Or only a voice in her head? How can she figure out which thoughts are her and which are someone else's?

She doesn't remember how she came to her chamber. Maybe it was just a dream? No. Impossible. She cannot think about it now. Her head is so empty... And she is so tired...

***

Evening. She doesn't know what day it is. When was she on the field? When was she at the market? How often do the panic attacks come?

She tries to look normal in public. Nobody knows that her long strong hair fall out. Nobody knows that some of her scars exist of her own fault. Nobody knows how damn she tries to get up from her bed everyday.

„Who really am I? Am I truly the danger for this village?”

She can feel no emotional pain. But it doesn't mean she is inhuman. She just lost her way. She always feels people's sight on her back. They always talk about her. She feels lonely among people.

"You shouldn't live. You don't deserve it.", she heard. "Yes. You can only bring pain and fear. Brothers and sisters are killing each other just because of you. They are afraid of your curse.”, said another voice. “Everyone is normal, but you... You see things that do not exist. You hear things that do not exist. And you know it is screwed up, but you cannot do anything about it." And that was true. She understands it.

When did the voices appear? Cannot determine. She remembers them from the beginning. From time to time a new voice joins the others. They urge her to kill herself, but she still tries to live... Does she?

„You will understand that you're a villain.”

And she started to cry. No explanation why. Maybe she already has explained too much. Maybe she has tried too hard... and she let down herself. But it is good to give up. She doesn't have to hold on. And maybe this is what she wanted to hear: it's not bad to give up and finish all of this. Now she can rest. In the end, she has tried so hard...

She just wished for someone's understanding.

***

The voices guide her again. She ran out of the house. The sky was dark, the cold air transpierced her but she didn't care. She just ran. She was so scared and desperate. So distraught.

She stumbled and collapsed. Absinthe lifted her head and looked into the puddle, where she saw her reflection. But... This wasn't her anymore. She saw a creature. An unearthly creature with bloodshot sunken eyes and shaky lips with a dribble of blood outgoing from them. With flighty hair and a ripped dress. With cuts, scars and bruises. With a maniacal eyesight and the nails pulled out because of madness. Barefoot and desperate. Horrifying and horrified.

She was alone. She walked through the forest. Why? Cannot tell. After her last panic attack her mind was broken. Again.

She has dreamed about being a hero in her story... She deserved it. But she understood that is not a role for her. She is not herself anymore. She opened her eyes. She realized that she is a monster. A creature. A villain.

From now on, she moved fast, but calm. Her tiny body moved amidst the woods. She became a shadow, a reflection of a human. Her bare feet were stepping delicately and aptly. When she was turning around, it looked like some kind of a dance, a dark frolic performed by a frightening spectre. Her gown spun in the fog. She blurred the borders between herself and the voices. She lost her humanity.

Some time later, she finally arrived. In front of her stood a beautiful, big, strong pine with many branches. On one of them was hanging a loop. And she knew what she had to do.

***

Her body swayed on the wind. She finally escaped this cruel world, where everyone wished her death. To the bitter end she believed that she lays down in the field, with blue cornflowers and red poppies under the pine. Isn't it beautiful? The dream about blue, red and gold... About the pines and blue ribbons... About the heroes and the girls with long plaits... About understanding, hopes and calmness... About dancing in the ballroom of the mind... About lying down and submerging oneself into a dream with the smell of the nature...

In fact, nothing is so perfect. World is cruel. Beautiful girls with plaits are going mad because of their schizophrenia, people are killing each other because of jaundice and harrow suffering ones. People who need a piece of asylum and empathy pass away. The world, where the otherness is perceived as something unforgivable. World, where flowers are dying each year.

But every single year flowers also revive. The end is the start of something new. The white sunshine. The girl from the story desired understanding. And maybe Absinthe found it on her own new start. With poppies and cornflowers. Somewhere.

 


End file.
